by Melissa Good
Beside her, the reporter leaned over and studied the server now resting on the table. "Big."
"Commercial grade." Kerry agreed. "Quad processors, four gig of main memory and five 36 gig drives in a RAID 5 array."
The reporter looked at her. "I should have guessed you were bilingual." She remarked pleasantly.
"Ugh." The second group of carriers carefully edged out of the room, making space for the third to come in. "Man, it's hot in here."
"Man, it's small in here." The third set worked their way in, and took up the remaining space on the table with their load. "Is every place on this thing so cramped?"
"Pretty much," Kerry said. "Space is definitely at a premium. This used to be a passenger cabin."
"I'm surprised they let you take it," the reporter said. "It's lost revenue for them."
"They had no choice," Kerry said. "I told them either I took a passenger cabin, or they gave me their crew lounge. Guess which they picked?"
The techs chuckled. The reporter crossed her arms, but she smiled. "Well, that's been a problem on all four ships, really. I think..." She looked around. "Yeah, I think definitely you got the most space out of them. The ship behind you has this stuff squeezed into something I suspect might have been a washroom."
"I think the satellite people are here," Barry said, over his shoulder. "They're, uh..." His eyes flicked to the reporter. "Having a discussion with Ms. Roberts."
Uh oh. "Problems?"
"Well," Barry opened the box of rails and pulled one out, checking it to see if it was right or left handed. "Uh...I don't really know." He chickened out. "It's all that WAN stuff."
"Uh huh." Kerry removed herself from being a doorstop. "I'll go see if I can clarify the WAN stuff." She sighed. "The AC units are on their way up. Please remind the guys to put the drain line in. I don't really want to have to swim upstream later to get back here."
"Will do." Barry agreed cheerfully. "Be glad to see them." He wiped his forehead with his sleeve.
Kerry started out, glancing to one side as the reporter joined her. "Don't you want to see them mount the server?" She asked politely.
"Oh sure." The reporter agreed. "That's my leadoff tagline. 'mounting servers in a sweaty ex-bedroom. No. I'll go with you."
Figures. Kerry sighed. Just figures.
THE TOP DECK of the ship was accessed at the top of the stairwells through a set of wooden doors with round glass portholes. The surrounding walls were metal with rust markings on them and evidence of many rounds of steel plate patching.
It creaked up here. Dar could also feel the slight motion of the ship as it rocked in its berth, the wind from the storm shoving against the sides of the relatively narrow vessel. At sea, she could only imagine what it would be like, and was personally determined not to find out.
She peered out the porthole and spotted the techs outside standing in the rain and surrounding a huge pile of gear.
Dar reasoned that Cruickshank and her boys wouldn't follow them out into the rain, and as she looked behind her she was pleased to note her reasoning was correct. Already wet, she didn't mind the warm rain in the slightest as she headed across the open top deck toward the stanchions they were trying to mount the communications gear on.
She hadn't been up top before. The small swimming pool, drained for resurfacing, appeared sad and full of cracks; its concrete very discolored and crumbling. Around it, an old turf surface was unraveling, part of it taken up and in the process of being replaced.
On one side was a bar with worn wooden stools bolted to the deck, and on the other a tiny bandstand with two, low, cracked steps leading up to it.
Shabby. Like the rest of the ship. However, Dar could see there was a stack of new teak wood under tarps nearby, and the cracked pieces were being replaced. Eventually, she supposed, it would be presentable.
Not now.
They stopped under the metal structure, and looked up. "See?" The man nearest Dar pointed. "That's all we got to connect it to. I'm telling
ya, it's gonna blow overboard first time they crank this tub up."
Dar hopped up onto part of the structure and examined the beam in question. It was rustier than a sixty eight Chevy, and even she could see the popped rivets and crumbling slivers of steel coming off the beam. "How much does that thing weigh?"
"'Bout a hundred fifty, sixty pounds," the man advised her.
Dar reached up and curled her hands around the beam, then pulled herself up onto it, grabbing hold of the supports reaching up from it and bouncing up and down on the beam. "Any shavings?"
The satellite techs scurried out of the way watching her with wide eyes. "What in the hell are you doing?" the tall man asked.
"I weigh as much as that damn satellite. You see anything moving?" Dar swung back and forth on the side supports, throwing her body to either side with as much violence as she could muster.
"Hey! Be careful, lady! It's slippery up there! You're gonna kill yourself!"
"Nah." Dar, however, was mindful of how unstable her sandals were. "I've been running around on spars since I was in short pants." She hopped up and down again. "I say you put it up here." She grabbed hold of the edge of the beam and slipped off, dangling by her hands for a second before she dropped lightly to the deck.
"I don't know." The man shook his head. "That thing's going to cut loose if there's any stress."
Dar walked to the side of the beam. "So put strapping in, and make sure your contracts specify that they pay for new equipment every time it falls over. Guarantee the metal gets replaced in a week." She patted the steel.
The satellite contractors gazed unhappily at the metal, shading their eyes from the falling rain. "I don't know," the supervisor finally said. "I guess we could mount it then see what happens. Did they even run the cabling?"
One of the other techs wrestled a rusted cover off a box mounted on the side of the beam. "Yeah." He peered inside. "Looks like it...yeah, there's the co-ax."
Dar came around behind him and looked as well. "My contractor did that. Let me know if it doesn't work. He's still here."
The supervisor gave her a friendlier look. "You a gymnast?"
"No." Dar became aware of the camera crew, focusing on her from the safety of the overhang. "How long is this gonna take you?"
"Couple hours."
Dar glanced up. "Hope it stops raining"
The tech shrugged. "Stuff's waterproof." He indicated their surroundings. "Kinda has to be."
"We're not."
"Huh. Yeah." The satellite technician scratched his head, and glanced over his shoulder. "What's with the camera?"
"Don't ask." Dar deliberately turned her back on it. "Your guys putting in the control gear for this thing in the communications room?" The rain had now drenched her through, and her shirt was sticking to her body. On the other hand, at least she wasn't sweating.
"The geek guys are doing that," the tech told her. "We don't touch that crap."
Figures. "Okay." Dar pushed away from the steel support. "I'll leave you to it then."
The man looked up. "You sure you want us to do this?" He queried. "Lady, I'm not kidding. I think it's gonna come down."
Possibly. But Dar needed the satellite up so she could start the applications they'd been contracted for. "Tell you what," she said. "I'll go tell the engineer they need to put metal stabilizers on this thing if you get your part of it started. Deal? They can solder the angle irons on here, and not touch your gear." She tapped the side of the metal beam.
The tech studied the area, then nodded. "Okay." He agreed. "Deal. But you sure you can talk for those guys? I don't want no trouble."
Dar grinned at him, her eyes twinkling in the rain. "I'm sure," she said. "See you inside." She turned and headed back toward the doorway leading inside, seeing not only the camera crew, but a tousled blonde head peeking out at her.
She could almost see the exasperated look in her partner's eyes as she strolled toward her with unhurried strides. As she
got to the door and opened it, she shook herself vigorously, scattering rain drops everywhere, including onto the cameramen who scrambled back away from her with puppy sounding yelps. "Don't you folks have something better to do than stand here blocking the door?" She asked sternly.
"Can I ask, Ms. Roberts, what you were doing out there?" Cruickshank asked, almost breathlessly. "I can't tell you what that looked like."
Dar cocked her head to one side. "What did it look like?" she inquired. "I was just discussing the mounting points for our satellite system." She gave Kerry a sideways glance, then she brushed by the reporters. "Excuse me. I've got other things to attend to."
"Hi." Kerry greeted her. "Everything all right out there?"
"Peachy." Dar steered Kerry toward the stairwell, ignoring the gaggle of press around them. "They're going to get the dish up, but it's going to take a while. How are the servers going?"
"They're going," Kerry answered.
They hit the top of the stairs and started down, taking the steps two at a time and leaving the press momentarily behind. As they got to the eleventh deck, Dar abruptly turned left and scooted down a hallway with Kerry at her heels.
They paused and listened. The sound of thundering footsteps continuing down the steps made them both smile. "Okay." Dar ran her fingers through her wet hair, pushing it back off her forehead. "Problem was the stanchion they're mounting it to is as rotten as a six week old apple."
"Ah." Kerry nodded. "And that explains you climbing all over it like a monkey."
"Eh." Dar shrugged. "Made good film, I bet."
Kerry cleared her throat. "Actually sweetheart, your shirt's transparent." She delicately plucked the wet fabric off her partner's skin. "That made even better film. I almost stabbed the camera guy when his tongue came out of his mouth."
Dar looked down at herself, then up at Kerry. "Really?"
"Really." Kerry examined the pale green, very light cotton fabric that was still, indeed, very see through and left nothing to anyone's imagination in regards to Dar's physique. "I think you need to change."
Dar looked both ways down the corridor, then simply removed her shirt, standing there in the hallway in her bra as she wrung the garment out onto the plastic protecting the new carpet on the floor. "Huh. Maybe that's why those guys warmed up to me out there."
"Dar." Kerry looked nervously in the direction of some voices.
"Hm?"
"If that camera crew comes round that corner, I'm going to go insane and we'll never hear the end of this."
"Oh, relax." Dar started to walk the other way toward the communications office. "It's just a bra. I saw a billboard with some chick wearing one coming off Brickell this morning." She continued to wring the shirt out, her shoulders bunching and flexing as she squeezed as much water out as possible.
Kerry decided to simply enjoy the show, and she only just kept herself from walking backwards to watch. "Is that beam going to cause us a problem?"
"Maybe." Dar finished twisting the shirt to within an inch of its textile life. "I told them to put some extra strapping up. That whole top superstructure is a piece of crap. I figure the entire damn smokestack will fall over before the dish will."
"Oh. That's not good." Kerry paused with her hand on the door latch to the communications room, waiting for Dar to put her damp shirt back on. "How long do you really think it's going to last?"
"Past this week, I don't really care." Dar tugged the clammy fabric on. "Still see through?"
Kerry studied her. "Not...no, it's okay," she said. "But you're dripping all over the floor from those jeans."
"They'll cope. It's a ship. They should be used to water." Dar jerked her jaw at the door. "Open." She hesitated, giving Kerry a look. "I know that's not a good long term answer. But between you and me, I don't honestly think this is a long term ship."
"You think there's a scam in here somewhere." It was not really a question.
Dar nodded. "I think there's something. Too many things just don't make sense." She flicked her fingers through her bangs once more, then focused on the entrance.
Kerry opened the door, nodding slightly in confirmation. She followed Dar inside the communications office in somber, yet attentive silence.
"HEY, KERRY? YOU on?"
Kerry unclipped her radio and answered it. "Yup. What's going on, Mark?'
"My guys say we're ready to light up the network. You okay with that?"
Kerry frowned. "Of course I am," she replied. "Since when does someone need my approval to push the on switch around here?"
The radio crackled. "Ahem...ah, just trying to be PC, boss, that's all," Mark replied meekly.
"PC my gopher's eyeball," Kerry told him. "Turn the suckers on." She clicked off and went to the base of the ladder, peering up. "Jesus."
Dar, up on the ladder with the satellite techs, her head poked halfway up into the plenum, looked down at her. "Problem?"
"People being weird," Kerry said. "They're going to turn the switches on."
"Cool." Dar resumed her inspection, edging a step higher and flashing her light into the space. "Did you find the problem?" She directed her words to the SAT tech up inside the ceiling, sweating and cursing under his breath.
"Not yet," the man replied. "Fucking cable is so tight in here I can't see it."
Obligingly, Dar went up one more step, this time onto the top of the ladder, and extended her arm to direct her powerful flash over to where the guy was working. She could feel the ladder moving a little uncertainly under her and she gripped the ceiling supports with one hand. "Ker?"
"On it," Kerry replied.
The ladder moved a bit more then stabilized. Dar felt a hand curl around her ankle, and she relaxed. "Thanks."
"Son of a bitch," the tech muttered.
Dar craned her neck to see if she could see what the problem was. "Ah hah." She immediately saw the junction box installed on top of the cable access point.
"Stupid electricians. What a bunch of freaking morons." The tech sighed, wiping droplets of sweat out of his eyes. "Now what are we gonna do? There's not even clearance to plug in."
Dar leaned forward and examined the box, acutely aware of Kerry's thumb gently rubbing against her skin. It was a very warm feeling, despite the heat in the room, and she took a moment to take a breath before she peeked around the electrical piping that was blocking the way.
It was infuriating. The contractor had, to her eyes, almost deliberately ran his conduit and junction box right up against where the co-ax terminated, making their connection pretty damn near unusable. "Crap."
"Yeah." The SAT tech snorted. "So now what?"
"Now we have to get those bastards back in here to redo it," Dar said.
The tech laughed. "You don't really think they're gonna do that."
"Not willingly." Dar carefully backed off the top step. "But let me see what I can do." She emerged from the ceiling, moving down another step and receiving a pat on her calf as Kerry got out of her way. She got down to ground level, and rested her elbow on one of the steps of the ladder. "We've got a problem."
"So I gathered," Kerry said. "What can I do?"
Dar eyed her thoughtfully. "I think this is my gig."
"Your gig?"
"I have to go find the electrical contractor and scream at him until he moves some conduit," Dar said. "I will probably have to threaten legal action, and I might need to go find whoever owns the company and shake him by the neck until he piddles on the floor."
Kerry studied her quietly, then sniffed. "Your gig." She agreed. "I'm going to go down to the server room and see how they're doing in there."
Dar looked around. The communications room was a bit of a shambles with wires hanging out everywhere. A crew technician was sitting in a chair near the back of the room just watching them, arms crossed over his jump suited chest. The only neat looking space was their rack full of routers and gear.
What a mess. Dar steered Kerry out the door and into the hallway, walk
ing with her toward the central staircase that would take them down. It was hot, and they both wiped their foreheads at the same time, causing them to chuckle a little.
"Dar. I have to ask you something." Kerry plucked the sweat dampened cotton of her shirt away from her skin. "Because everyone is asking me this. Your mother asked, the reporters asked...so I'm going to ask you."
"Mm? Is this like the last personal question you asked me? " Dar inquired. "If it is, I want to know why my mother was involved."
Kerry bumped her, shoulder to shoulder. "You're such a brat sometimes. Have I ever told you that?"
"Once or twice." Dar allowed.
"No. What I was going to ask--that everyone is asking is--why in the hell you and I are here."
"Ah." Dar sighed. "Yeah, while I had my head stuck up in that ceiling I thought about that, too. You know..." She stared pensively at the wall. "I wish I had a decent answer for that right now, Ker. All I know is that I just have a bad feeling that if we weren't, a lot of this stuff wouldn't get done, and we'd end up having to explain why."
Kerry considered that, as they turned the corner and started down the steps. "So, we don't trust our staff to get it done."
"No." Dar agreed. "We don't. But that's not their fault. This is out of their scope."
With a tiny shake of her head, Kerry let her hand run down the center banister. "I've been insisting to everyone that's not the deal."
"Hm."
"So now you tell me it is."
"Well, it is for me, Ker. It doesn't have to be for you." Dar protested mildly, as they walked down the steps in perfect sync. "You could be here...to um..."
"Take care of you." Kerry smiled a little. "Make sure you keep dry, keep out of sewage, and bring you your lunch."
"Tell me when my shirt's see-through." Dar spotted John on the next level. "Hey, John!"
The wiring contractor whirled, spotted her, and trotted over. "Been looking for you two," he said. "Listen, I got my guys together last night, and found the fella who bumped into Ms. Stuart, here."